Delicious Distractions
by Jillian Jacobs
Summary: ONESHOT!Both Ginny and Harry are a bit distracted in Transfiguration. Can a late night detention help cure them of their wandering eyes?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews on Single Girls Woe! I didn't get sixty, but I knew that was impossible anyway, so here is my little H/G fluff nugget.

Yay for fluff!

And now without further adieu, I give you…

**Delicious Distractions**

"Miss Weasley! Would you be so kind as to share with the rest of us what exactly is so interesting outside of that window?"

"Erm…" Ginny floundered, glancing back out the window she had been staring out for the last ten minutes. A window that perfectly framed a handsome raven-haired boy and her oaf of a brother struggling with a behemoth of a creature Ginny couldn't name. Could she help it if her mind strayed to all the wicked things she would like to do to that particular emerald eyed boy should he become incapacitated?

No!

After all, she was a sixteen-year-old girl. It's perfectly natural to want to ravish your brother's best friend…right? Er…maybe not…

"I was just concerned for my brother's well being, is all," Ginny supplied, hoping McGonnagal would accept such an obviously blatant lie.

"Very well, then," the stern transfiguration teacher said. Ginny stared at her in shock. Clearly she wasn't familiar with the love/hate relationship she shared with Ron. "If you would please transfigure you're clay figurine for us then, to make up for your lack of attention to the lesson. A nice replica of your dearest brother, perhaps?"

Ginny stared down at her plain white figurine, in the crude shape of a human. Transfiguring it into a realistic human being was the first step to starting human transfiguration. They would practice on their dolls first. Come to think of it, it would be fun to see Ron with eight crawly spider legs, even if it was in miniature form…

She screwed up her face in concentration, trying to make a clear picture of Ron in her head, but instead of her freckly faced brother a bespectacled boy kept popping up in her head. She told him to get out of her mind, but he just gave her a roguish grin and stayed there, making himself at home.

"Miss Weasley," McGonnagal said, a note of impatience in her voice.

"Okay, okay!" She tapped her wand three times on the figurine and said "_Personifico_!"

Ginny watched as an emerald green light surrounded the clay as the clay molded and colored, and on her desk was a tiny little Harry Potter, roguish grin and all.

"Ah, yes," McGonnagal said. "I can see you were quite concerned for you're brother. Detention tonight, for ogling boys in my classroom."

Ginny gave an indignant huff at the same time mini-Harry waved a threatening fist at her, yelling in a high pitched voice she couldn't understand.

"This is all _your_ fault, you know," she told mini-Harry as she tucked him into her pocket to head for a hideously boring hour of History of Magic.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….

_The wind whipped through Harry's jet-black hair and his Quidditch robes billowed behind him as he raced through the air. He had just spotted the snitch glinting at the Gryffindor side of the pitch, glittering innocently and tantalizingly._

_Now all he had to do was get past the Weasley boys, attacking him one by one. He ducked past Percy easily, and then swerved around the twins. A complicated barrel roll/twist combination took him past Bill and Charlie. Now there was only Ron left, who to his surprise moved over and made a welcome gesture with his hands. _

_Pushing back the confusion of having his opponent give him the ultimate prize, Harry reached out for the shiny gold object. It seemed to melt upon his touch, the gold transforming into long soft strands of auburn. Then the snitch turned and flashed a mega-watt smile at him, and he wasn't in the air anymore, but on the pitch. A beautiful girl with warm golden eyes was embracing him._

"_We won, Harry!" she said, pulling back. "But what took so long? I've been waiting forever…"_

_And then her face drew closer. So close he could count each individual freckle on her nose. He could play connect the dots…_

_But he didn't think that was what she had in mind…_

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Harry? _Harry_!" Something poked him sharply in the side.

"Whassa matter?" said Harry, cracking an eye to glance at the red headed blur beside him. "You're not as pretty as the other one…" he commented vaguely.

His best friend rolled his eyes. "Class is over, mate. Time to rejoin the land of the conscious. What were you dreaming about, anyway? You were grinning like an idiot."

"I would be interested to know as well," Professor McGonnagal interrupted. "For surely a dream that could take your mind away from NEWT year transfiguration would be worth my while."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, peeling off a spare bit of parchment stuck to his face.

"Detention at eight, Potter."

Nodding glumly, the two boys made their way out of the classroom; Harry almost missing the doorway so involved was he in trying to comprehend his dream. Once out of hearing distance, Ron began probing for further details of his dream.

"Was it about quidditch? I bet it was. You never smile like that unless a snitch is involved…" Ron stared at Harry, waiting for confirmation.

"What? Yeah…quidditch…made a great catch…" Harry answered, still quite stuck on the image of dream Ginny.

"Give me details. Maybe you can use your moves for the match next Saturday."

"She was really close…. I could count freckles…smelled really good…."

"Yeah, that new Hufflepuff seeker is a looker, isn't she? But don't let it distract you mate. You've got to go for the gold!"

"Ginny's eyes are gold…" Harry mumbled vaguely.

"Ginny's eyes are…_What?_ What are you on about Harry? We're talking about _quidditch _here!" Ron tapped him on the head, as if checking to see if the inside was really hollow. "_Quidditch_."

Harry stopped abruptly in the deserted hall, emerald eyes wide with a terror that only a life changing epiphany can bring.

"I fancy Ginny Weasley."

"I'm sorry. Come again, mate?"

"I fancy your little sister."

"That's what I thought you said."

Harry stared around the hall, fully aware of his body and mind since waking in transfiguration. He stared at Ron warily, waiting for the blow to fall.

"So…" Ron started, Harry taking a few cautious steps backward. "What are you going to do about it, then?"

"I…don't know. I guess I'll…tell her?"

Ron gave him a brotherly slap on the back. "That's generally where relationships start, yeah… I mean, not everyone can skip right to the snogging bit like me and 'Mione…shame really…"

…………………………………………………………………………………

Never was Harry more grateful _not_ to see Ginny at dinner. At least without her sitting across from him, his fork would hit his mouth instead of his chin, which had been happening of late.

Her absence in the Great Hall, and his detention directly afterward, allowed him plenty of time to think over exactly _what_ to say to her. Scrubbing viciously at a stubborn spot on his own _Special Services to the School Award_, he imagined the conversation.

_"Oh, hi Ginny. I realized after rather a strange dream that I desperately want to be with you, as your boyfriend. Fancy a snog?"_

Insert Ginny running in opposite direction screaming bloody murder.

Why did this have to happen to _him_, of all people? Couldn't the powers that be see that his plate was a little full right now? _( Voldemort, NEWTs, rising death rates…)_ He just couldn't handle a girlfriend right now! They're more trouble than Voldemort and his Death Munchers combined! So what if her hair was all shiny…and her curves would fit perfectly against him…or that just looking at her made his blood rush straight down to his—

"_Mini-Harry!"_ Someone hissed out in the hall. "_Harry!_ You come back here _right now_!"

_What the…?_

Just then, a tiny creature no bigger than the palm of his hand strolled into the trophy room, looking around curiously. Bending down to investigate, he noticed that the little night time prowler was an exact duplicate of _him_!

_What kind of sick, twisted person would…?_

"_Harry! _I could get in big trouble for this you know! Where did you—Oh. Hi, erm…Harry."

"Ginny? This is _yours_?" Harry asked, taken aback.

Looking equally flustered, Ginny answered, "Yeah. It's from transfiguration. We have to, erm…transform dolls into…you know, people. For practice."

"Right, yeah. I remember."

Harry thought back to sixth year. His doll had changed into Sirius, because that's who he had been thinking about at the time. In fact, he was the focus of most of his thoughts that year. McGonnagal had said that your figurine would likely turn into the person who was most often on your mind. Which means…

Harry grinned mischievously. It was a whole new Quidditch game when he knew Ginny fancied him back…

………………………………………………………………………………………

Something about Harry was…off. As soon as she told him about her figurine, he grinned and got a wicked glint in his eye. And Harry with a smile and a wicked glint in his eye did _not_ do her body good. In fact, she was pretty sure that every bone in her body had turned into soggy Christmas pudding as he backed her into a corner, dangling poor mini-Harry in front of him.

"So," he said. "Someone been on your mind lately, Gin?"

"No!" Ginny nearly squeaked. His body was way to close to hers for normal speech.

"No?" Harry asked gingerly tucking mini-Harry back into her robe pocket.

She shook her head; trying to forget how very close his body was to hers. His fingers trailed down the side of her face, leaving her skin on fire everywhere he touched. She had to shut her eyes lest her mind should overload on the delicious visual directly in front of her. He was torturing her, standing just far enough away to taunt her.

"So you weren't thinking of me when you made this?" he asked, twirling mini-Harry in her pocket so that his thumb caressed her thigh.

"I…I…" she couldn't take it anymore. Her body was screaming at her for skin-to-skin contact. "I was-"

Before she could even finish her sentence his lips were on hers. It felt like coming home. This particular pair of lips was what hers had been searching for all sixteen years of her life. They were the most demanding, talented pair of lips she had ever had the pleasure of kissing, and as Harry deepened the kiss, Ginny never wanted it to end.

"_Mr. Potter_! What are you—Miss Weasley!"

No such luck.

The rather rumpled pair looked guiltily at their formidable transfiguration teacher, who looked quite furious at the moment.

"I came in search of Miss Weasley to find out why she was not cleaning desks in my classroom, as previously ordered."

"I …uh…lost mini-Harry…" she said reaching down to her pocket and finding that Harry hadyet to remove his hand from their prior wanderings. She slowly pulled his hand out of her pocket glancing at Harry who had quite a sheepish look about him. She displayed the mini-Harry doll (who was currentlygivingthem a thumbs up) to McGonagall with a nervous grin of her own.

"Well, I see you've found the full size version as well," McGonnagal said grimly. "Back to your detentions, and another weeks worth for the both of you. _Separately_."

Harry looked apologetically at Ginny, at the same time wishing she didn't have to go. He wasn't ready yet to not have her next to him.

Ginny seemed to read his mind, for as soon as McGonnagal turned to leave, she said, "What's a few more weeks, then?" And in front of McGonnagal's shocked face, Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry for another perfect (and hopefully endless) kiss.

**A/N-** Ah fluff. As always, review review review! I have one more plot for another h/g one shot up my sleeve, and if you are good little readers, I'll try to have it out before the sixteenth. (Otherwise known as the happiest day of my life...) So review!


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